


Sometimes It's a Good Hurt

by zeldadestry



Category: Firefly
Genre: Community: 100_women, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-08
Updated: 2006-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-13 16:50:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeldadestry/pseuds/zeldadestry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Mal is a comfort, then too much to bear, then a comfort once more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes It's a Good Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> Pt 1-Written for prompt 006, ‘Past’, for 100_women Fanfic Challenge  
> Translation: Fang xin: Don’t worry.  
> Pt 2-Written for prompt 007, 'Present', for 100_women Fanfic Challenge.  
> Translation Gou huang tang - enough of this nonsense  
> Pt 3-Written for prompt 008, 'Future', for 100_women Fanfic Challenge

Once, during the war, Zoe got doused with a chemical agent the alliance was using.

It didn’t kill her, no gorram way. She was too strong, too stubborn, to go out after a cowardly attack like that. If the alliance was going to end her, it would be with a bullet, not poison.

No, it didn’t kill her, but the pain, as she lay on a cot in the tent that was serving as a make-shift infirmary, was intense. It felt like all her skin was on fire, made her feel like Reavers must, like the only way she could get any relief was to tear off her own flesh.

She doesn’t remember it too well; they had her doped up pretty good most of the time.

One thing she does remember is waking up in the middle of the night, her whole body, every inch of flesh burning, because someone must have missed her dose and the meds were wearing off. It was dark in the tent; she couldn’t see anything when she opened her eyes and she swore into the black. “Zoe?” she heard. “You alright?”

She was glad he was beside her. “I’m fine, Sir.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No, Sir. Fang xin.”

But he must have caught something in her voice that told him she lied, because she heard him move closer to her. He was leaning over her, his hands on either side of her shoulders, and she felt his breath, warm and moist across her face, when he said, “Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere,” she confessed.

“Zoe,” he said, his voice so quiet she wasn't even sure if she was hearing him or just feeling his lips shape her name against her jaw. He touched his forehead to hers for only the slightest of moments, because then he was shouting for the medic, and threatening to shoot her full of morphine himself if they couldn’t be bothered to do their gorram jobs right.

Mal’s fit brought a doctor quickly to her side, brought the jab of the needle into her arm. The drug dispersed through her bloodstream delivering the oblivion she welcomed. In her fading awareness, her last thought was that she was safe because he was close.

The job went smooth today, so smooth they impressed their client and have good prospects for another job from her soon. Mal and Zoe are drinking to their success at a local saloon, just the two of them, because Jayne’s already charmed a girl into taking him home with her and the rest of the crew is back on the boat.

The dive’s got a little private room in the back and there’s been a steady parade of people through the door all evening long. They’ve been speculating what shenanigans go on in there, and finally Mal says he can’t take it anymore and goes back.

When he returns, he says, “I tell you, they are hard up for entertainment on this rock. Can you guess what they’re doing back there?”

“I don’t care, just as long as Jayne wasn’t right.” Jayne’s possible scenarios had all involved women and farm animals engaging in acts Shepherd Book would have definitely counted as securing a one-way ticket to the special hell.

“Well, he weren’t exactly wrong.”

“Dear god, get me off this moon.”

“There’s a fine woman and there’s livestock, but it ain’t what you think.”

“Hey, don’t go putting Jayne’s filthy thoughts into my brain.”

“Right, well, it ain’t what Jayne thinks.” Mal laughs. “It’s so gorram stupid, Zoe. Are you sure you ain’t gonna pony up the money to see it? Wouldn’t want to spoil it for you.”

“I think I’ve had about all the fun I can stand for tonight, Sir,” Zoe says. It’s late, and the liquor’s beginning to drag her heart down into a dark place and she just wants to get back to Serenity and go to sleep.

But before she can get out of the booth, Mal slides back into it, trapping her between him and the wall. “She’s juggling geese!” he exclaims. “And she’s not even good at it! She dropped one of the babies right on its little head!” Mal bursts out into laughter again, but he’s not so drunk that he doesn’t catch Zoe’s momentary shock. “What’s the matter with you?” he says, scooting closer to her and putting his arm around her. “It didn’t get hurt, Zoe. It picked itself right up off the floor and waddled away like nothin’ happened.” She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t want him touching her, because she’s afraid of where it could lead, even if he thinks he’s just being her friend. “Hey,” Mal says, and his arm squeezes tighter around her, “What’s wrong? It ain’t like you to be all tender-hearted.”

“It’s nothing. It’s stupid. I just, I got reminded of him, that’s all.” His name feels like a private thing, now. She doesn’t ever say it.

“Oh,” Mal says.

She can feel him watching her and she’s staring down at the crappy wooden table, dirty with spilled beer and scarred with carvings people have made with their knives, including a fresh ‘JAYNE COBB’, in big, childish letters, like he’d just learned how to write it.

“Does it hurt?” Mal says, and she knows, she just does, even if he’s never said it, that he blames himself.

“Gou huang tang,” she says, pushing at him, trying to get away from him.

“Where does it hurt?” he says, his arm still around her, his other hand resting on her knee, and she hates him for this. If he doesn’t know that she’s suffering, or even if he does know but pretends he can’t see, either way, if he acts like everything’s shiny, she can pretend it is. She’s his soldier, and she follows his lead.

She knows that if she doesn’t do something, he’s going to try and comfort her and the only ground left beneath her is going to drop away. “You’ve got to let me go, Mal,” she says, and her voice is low and rough, rough like her fists striking against his chest. “Let go of me!” His arms fall and he gives her the space she needs to get up from the table, to walk away without looking back.

When they are first introduced to the baby, Inara and Kaylee will cry. Jayne’ll get teary, too, though he’ll try to hide it. Simon will have technical questions about the delivery, and seem personally insulted by the use of a midwife rather than an obstetrician. River will coo and they will all wonder, from the way the baby coos back, if it’s not just nonsense, but an actual conversation.

When the baby cries to be fed, she will lift her shirt up over her breast and Mal will clear his throat and look away, saying, “Now, how the hell am I supposed to get used to that?” But after a moment, he will continue to talk about the places they’ve been in the months since she left them, about the jobs they’ve pulled. “We managed, but it’ll be a might bit easier, now you’re back.”

When the baby is full, she will lay him down for his nap, and she and Mal will stand together, side by side, over his cradle. “Zoe,” he will whisper, because the baby is asleep, and she will turn her face towards him. “Does it hurt?”

“You know me, Sir. Absolutely impervious to pain.”

“Where does it hurt?” he will insist.

“Everywhere,” she will share, as she did once before, and she will be smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Wash and Zoe talk about juggling geese in the episode 'Our Mrs. Reynolds'.


End file.
